


Khaleesi

by Illusiory



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire, George R. R. Martin - Fandom, game of thrones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 12:31:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1744721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illusiory/pseuds/Illusiory





	Khaleesi

_Two children, running from the soldiers. The maester is behind them, hurrying them on with a voice thick with urgency. The little girl is crying, stumbling; her brother’s hand tight – too tight – around her wrist, pulling her along. They wear thick cloaks with hoods pulled down over their eyes, but the torchlight picks out the purple of their irises, shining in the shadow. The boy’s face is twisted into a kind of desperate savagery, his little hand wrapped around the hilt of a knife. His shoes are splashed with mud and blood._

_Two children, standing side-by-side in the stern of a ship, a ship with black sails. She lists to port as the trade winds of the Narrow Sea fill her sails, and the children clutch onto each other as she rocks. The boy’s hands clutched at his sister’s clothes, pulling her hood to the side. Her fringe glinted silver in the moonlight._

_A girl and a boy sitting on bare chairs in a dark room. The boy is long, lean, his face grown into a thin, cruel variation of his fine family profile. His hand rests on his sister’s leg, but there is little protection in the gesture. The girl is fair, an indication of her future beauty in her features. Her eyes are fixed on her brother’s hand._

_“I’ll never marry you to some wealthy lord if you don’t play your part” a boy snarls, his hands clutching painfully at a girl’s  shoulders. Her face remains impassive, but her eyes betray her. They’re wide, shining with fear. “Do you want to wake the dragon?” he hisses, spitting in her face. She rolls her shoulders back, standing how he wants her to. She still has the bruises from the last time she ‘woke the dragon’._

_A girl stands on a cliff top, wearing a dress as light as the breeze of the Narrow Sea below. Before her stands her new husband, his tan muscle a stark contrast to her brother’s pale, slight frame. She is afraid of them both. Her silver hair flies free._

_A woman turns on her brother. He is screaming at her, red-faced and wild-eyed; but she is calm. Her purple eyes hold her brother’s stare with serenity. She is not afraid. Her brother is not the dragon he says he is. He is wildfire – short-lived and uncontrollable. But fire cannot burn a true dragon, and she withstands his flames._

_A woman watches as molten gold is poured over her brother’s head. Ser Jorah tries to turn her away, to shield her from this sight, but she stays. She stares, unblinking, as her brother’s screams turn into a kind of animal keening. His face boils, red and bubbling even as he falls sideways; his voice silenced forever. The gold forms a spreading pool around his head._

_A woman stands on a great plane, her face turned to the sky. Her husband has fallen. His khalasar has scattered. Serenity has been replaced by emptiness._

_Parts of the khalasar remain. They follow the woman, calling her Khaleesi, but they are afraid. Afraid of other khalasars. Afraid of wild beasts. Afraid of the great empty plane and what it hides._

_A woman cradles newborn dragons in her arm, their scales barely containing the heat within. Emptiness is replaced by serenity. “Mother of Dragons,” she is called, but she does not need a title to know that they are her children._

_A woman stands on the shores of the Narrow Sea, her silver hair billowing behind her with every gust of wind. Her army stands behind her in rows. Her purple eyes shine with conviction – gazing across the water to the land she knows is beyond. Her dragons glide and soar on the thermals, racing and diving over the glittering turquoise water._

 


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